Remember Me

by Stacey Nash

  “Lilly! Who is it?” Sweat trickles down my back, and I pull out against the barrier, making my legs and arms ache.

  “Garrett.”

  I sag against the stone wall. Thank heavens it’s not Collective agents. Beau’s wrath I can handle … but what’s Garrett doing here?

  “What are you doing, Will?” Garrett’s voice comes through the telcom she must have given him.

  I don’t bother to answer. It’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.

  “Okay. I’m going to get you out of that thing before someone sees you,” Garrett says. “Ready?”

  “Ye—”

  A dragging weight thumps into my back. Everything goes black and I’m falling, tumbling over and over through nothing. The heaviness digs into my shoulders and hauls me down. It feels like it’s only just begun when it’s over and I’m thudding onto the basement floor, stumbling and trying to regain my balance as I land on my toes. That must have been porting. Mae told me about it, but it’s not what I expected.

  The weight releases, and my hands and knees hit the floor, stinging from their earlier scrapes. Garrett shoots straight to the computer and punches something into the keyboard, then strides right back to me. He thrusts a finger at Marcus sitting in the recliner and leveling a glower at me he says, “Stay.”

  I square my shoulders. “No, my bike’s there, and so is Lilly.”

  Marcus says, “What—”

  Garrett growls, clamps a hand over my shoulder, and does something with his wrist. We’re falling again. Back through the nothing, my stomach rising to my throat for a second before we thud onto the timber platform.

  Lilly crouches in the corner, a wide grin across her face as she slowly shakes her head.

  “I know, it was stupid and I didn’t think,” I say aloud.

  Garrett holds out the telcom, and Lilly twists it back into the opening of her ear. He looks at me, his face all serious lines and set eyes. “I understand how you feel, Will, really, I do,” he says, “but we’ve got this.”

  I feel my jaw clench. He’s got no idea how it feels.

  “Trust me. We’re doing something about it. Beau wants you to sit tight and that’s what you have to do.”

  His eyes brim with pity and I cringe. Sit tight? He wants me to do nothing. Great, just frickin’ great. It’s Beau all over again.

  “When we’re ready I’ll tell you and we’ll need you. But until then …”

  I can’t take it any longer. Tightness spreads over my back and across my neck. My hands curl into fists, the fingers biting into my palms. “How long Garrett?” I ask. “Another day? A week? A year? How frickin’ long are you prepared to wait? Every moment could be closer to …” I swallow.

  He stares right into my eyes, and it feels like a challenge. “They haven’t killed her.”

  I cock my head to the side and roll my neck, working out the kink. “How do you know?”

  He looks away as he rubs a finger along his nose. “It wouldn’t make any sense to off her, or Jax. They could have ended either of them at the farm, but they didn’t, they went to the hassle of kidnapping them instead.”

  That’s all he’s got? Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the small opening in the leaves.

  There’s still nothing to see. The sun’s sunk even lower and it will soon be completely dark. Lights shine out the windows of the buildings, and silhouettes move around inside. Nothing’s happening.

  “I’m going,” I say.

  “Home.” Garrett orders.

  I pin him with a steady stare. “Yes, home.”

  I move to the tree trunk and lower myself over the side of the platform, scaling then jumping to the ground from halfway down.

  “I won’t tell Beau,” Garrett warns. “But try something like this again and I will.”

  When I’m almost at the bike, Lilly rushes up beside me and opens her mouth, but I look away. She doesn’t try to speak as she jogs along, matching my stride. We reach the bike and she climbs up behind me. It must take everything she’s got to keep her mouth shut.

  We ride home in silence yet there’s anything but peace and quiet in my head. Ideas flit through my mind faster than I can hold onto them. Trying to shift my focus, I concentrate on the bike: the vibration beneath me, the road in front of me. Finally as the thoughts slow, I can turn them over and find the holes. We don’t know for sure they’re holding her at the community, but something deep in my gut tells me that’s where she is and I trust it.

  My gut’s never wrong. I knew that Billy French guy she dated was bad news from the start.

  It’s dark by the time we pull into the safe house. I ride right up beside the workshop, cutting the engine fast. Lilly dismounts and pulls her helmet off.

  Light floods out of the open door creating a spotlight on Ace who’s curled up by the stairs. He lifts his head then drops it again when he sees me. Sorry to disappoint, buddy. Hanging my helmet on the handlebar, I stride away from the bike and into the occupied workshop. Marcus loves his tech almost as much as I love tinkering with cars. He’s so good with it; he has to know of something that can help.

  I tug the telcom out of my ear and set it on his bench. “Marcus.”

  He looks up from his work at hand—some sort of wrist band—a smile spreads across his face. “How’d it go?”

  I grunt. There’s no real answer to give.

  His brows scrunch. “That good, eh?”

  “Dumb assed barrier.”

  Why didn’t I think of that before? Last time we tried to get in, Jax walked right through it when we couldn’t. He said something about having no tech.

  “We need to breech their protective barrier.” I toward Lilly strolling through the door. “Just a sec.”

  “Do you think that spy station belongs to Garrett?” I ask her. “I was so angry I didn’t think to ask him.”

  “Yes, he told me as much when he first ported in. He and Evan set it up with intelligence that Jax gave them right after we rescued Mae’s father.”

  “Figures.”

  “The barrier around the Collective,” Marcus says, bringing my attention back to him. “What type of force shield is it?” His eyes dance with excitement as he takes a seat at the workbench.

  “One that stops us entering,” Lilly says.

  “It makes me feel uneasy when I’m too close,” I add.

  Lilly nods. “Yeah, it makes me want to puke.”

  “Hmm.” I can almost hear Marcus thinking. “What if you ignore the repulsion and force your way through it?”

  “Nope.” I shake my head, and I pull up a seat at the bench, glancing at the bike leaning on the wall as I collect my thoughts. There’s no way to force yourself through it. At least that I tried. “When we’ve come into contact with the damn thing, it’s like a holding barrier that won’t let us pass. No matter how much I tried to push or pull or force my way through, I couldn’t. I don’t know how they do it, but it’s got to be some type of tech.”

  Lilly adds, “But it’s not random in what it stops. I saw birds hop around on the fence today and they didn’t get stuck.”

  Is she for real? She bird watched. I put on feigned interest, my voice as deadpan as my expression. “Wow, you did? I totally missed that.”

  She continues on. “Jax went through it. Twice.”

  “Hmm.” Marcus glances away, his fingers tracing a red jewel in the armband he was working on. His mouth twitches. “Anything special or different about when Jax got through?”

  “He wasn’t wearing tech and we were,” I say.

  “The birds wouldn’t have been wearing tech, either,” Lilly says.

  Marcus doesn’t bother answering, but I roll my eyes at her, and she grins.

  Marcus taps his finger on the bench, drawing my gaze to the armband. God knows what that is or does. “Maybe …” Tap, tap, tap. “Maybe it’s to do with size. It could only affect objects of a certain size, say humans.”

  “Is that a fat joke?” Lilly’s mouth twitches again. Got to giv
e the girl credit for trying to lighten the moment.

  Marcus looks right through her, caught in his own thoughts, still tapping. “How does it stop you?”

  “I can walk right into it, but the air thickens around me like setting jello. I can move in it, but only barely and I can get out with force, but I can’t go through.”

  “Have you tried going through with the same force you pull out?” Marcus says.

  Lilly splutters and giggles, leaning against the wooden bench as if to hold herself upright. Marcus shoots her wide-eyed look and says, “What?”

  “Umm, you said,” she breaks into another fit of giggles, “pull—”

  “It’s not possible,” I say, thinking of the time I ran at the open door in the council building and my leg stuck in midair like a stringed puppet. Pulling didn’t make any difference.

  Marcus sighs and I pace to his cabinet, my fingers trailing over the tech on his workbench. A yellow hand held device, a pile of protect-its, and a ton of stuff I can’t even begin to guess the purpose of. I don’t know where to begin working out what we need but I can’t rest or stop until we figure out how to break that fricking wall down.

  “How high is it? Can you climb it?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you should see it.”

  His eyes brighten and he nods so vigorously his head must be spinning.

  “Let’s go.” I turn toward the door.

  “Oh, it’ll need to be daylight.”

  I blow out a long breath. Why is no one in a hurry? It’s like they think we’ve got all the time in the world. Meanwhile Mae, and Jax, could be having their toenails ripped out with pincers.

  I level him with a sharp gaze. “An hour before sunrise.”

  Taking long strides, I leave the workshop, pacing through the long grass toward the barn. It’s impossible to stay still. I can’t do nothing. Morning’s at least another seven hours away. Too long.

  My mind will sure as hell go into overdrive.

  My legs start to pound and I’m running with so much energy it feels almost manic.

  Thoughts of Mae in danger with only Jax by her side, and without me to stop her, he’ll be letting her be rash and foolish. If she gets hurt I’ll—he’ll—it can’t happen. Since he ported into our lives three months ago he’s been like a wedge, pushing deeper and deeper between us. She’s falling for his charm and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  When I reach the barn, I’m panting, warm air rushing past my dry lips. I flick on the lights and the dark barn floods with dim light. I go straight to the weapons wall. Blades, sticks, batons: my stun-mace will do. I take it to the bag.

  While I lash out, sweat trickles between my shoulder blades and makes my shirt damp. I bash the canvas until my arms grow heavy, enjoying my silenced thoughts. When I can’t lift them anymore, I drop the mace and kick the bag instead, pushing myself right to the brink. To the spot where it hurts but in a good, over-exercised way. When I’ve got nothing left, I drop to the floor, resting my arms on my knees and sit there forever, panting, sweating, and thinking of nothing. As my body cools, the pain in my chest comes pounding back.

  I have to bring her home.

  Flopping back onto the workout mat, I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. How are we going to do this? I’m not waiting for Beau, not waiting for Garrett. If they figure it out first, well and good. If I do … well … then I do and I’m not waiting. We need to break through that barrier. Give it more than a half-assed attempt.

  I pull my hands away and as my vision clears the landing up near the rafters sets in my sight. My legs give a slight wobble as I rise and stride to the staircase curling up from the back of the barn. The area isn’t out of bounds, but I’ve never investigated it before now. It could hold any damn thing. The smell of hay and dust overpower even my sweaty BO the higher I climb. The squeaking and moaning of the stairs under my weight don’t stop me. They feel solid enough, thankfully.

  As I reach the top, I realize it’s dark and I’ve got no idea where the light is. A splinter digs into my finger as I pat down the wall. My thumb brushes over a node. There. Flicking the switch, light burst on to reveal a loft filled with crap. It’s as crazy as Al’s shop. Every inch of the floor covered in something. A pile of bows almost heaped haphazardly rest against the wall: long, short, compound, and cross. Marcus’s words buzz back to me.

  The same force. That’s it. We need to hit that barrier with lightning force. I snatch up the crossbow and head back to Marcus’s workshop.

  Chapter Ten

  Will

  I work at the crossbow through the night, pulling it apart and putting it back together. Making it bigger, faster, stronger. It’s just like upgrading an engine, small tweaks here and there. I can only assume the barrier is a bigger version of a protect-it. They repel projectiles, making them useless, but the barrier seems to stop slow moving things of human shape and size. If I can make something small which can shoot through it then maybe I can somehow bring it down.

  Morning sun streams through the workshop doors when Marcus swings them open. He stops mid-step, his eyes goggly through his glasses as he blinks. “Will?”

  “Hey.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  I look back to my work. “Trying something.”

  “I’ve been searching for you for an hour. We were supposed to meet.”

  “Sorry,” I say without looking up.

  “What’s that?” He moves closer.

  “Something I hope will break that damned barrier.”

  He sniffs and pushes his glasses up with a stubby finger as he eyes my contraption. “There’s only one way to find out. Can we port there?”

  “I don’t know the coordinates, but Garrett probably does.” I’m not sure if I want to ask him, though. He was pretty unimpressed with my little venture at the wall.

  “Don’t bother,” Marcus says. “I’ve wanted to take the bike for a spin since I added the cover-up.”

  My hand creeps to Mae’s pendant.

  “Not like that,” he says. “Same idea, but it works differently.”

  “Right. Give me five.” I turn back to the bow that now looks more like a mini cannon on a bow base. He stares at me while I fiddle with the release mechanism, trying to make it push the ammo out faster.

  He crosses his arms and moves from foot to foot, unable to contain his excitement. “How’s it work?”

  I grunt. If I can just get this to slam into the—

  “What are you doing?” Lilly asks. I look up, and she’s walking toward me with Ace by her side, his usually erratic tail hanging limp and still.

  “Will,” she says in a tone like my mother’s, “you haven’t slept.”

  “Couldn’t.”

  “Did you even try?”

  I shove a stone into my barrier breaker and shoot it at the lower half of the wall. It connects with a resounding boom, making a divot about as big as my fist.

  “Cool.” Marcus moves to inspect the damage in the concrete.

  “Have you eaten?” Lilly asks.

  “Not hungry.”

  “I thought as much.” She pushes a sandwich into my hands.

  “Thanks.” I shove it into my mouth and pass a piece under the bench to the dog. “We need weapons and stuff in case this actually works.”

  “On it,” she says, heading to the cabinet.

  I turn to Marcus, snatching my contraption off the bench. “Let’s go.”

  Slinging it over my shoulder by a long strap, I leave the workshop for my bike. I throw a leg over her, and grab the helmet off the handlebar just as Marcus pushes his bike out of the workshop. It doesn’t look any different with the new tech. It still looks like the body of a motorcycle without fairing: all the engine, suspension, and cabling on show. Lilly heaves the doors closed behind her, backpack hanging from her arm. She looks from Marcus to me, and at the two bikes. “I’m coming.”

  “Sure.” I toss her the spare helmet.

  She pulls i
t onto her head and throws a leg over the bike, climbing on behind me. The crossbow digs into my back when she scooches up behind me and I nod to Marcus, then take off down the dusty road, leaving Ace moping in the yard.

  As we ride along the treeline, I slow in the place around Jax’s secret entrance. It never crossed my mind that he might have known how to get in because he’s Collective … sure, he’s not one of them now, but he was. That sits a little off.

  Midmorning sun beams onto my back, a reminder we’re in broad daylight, so I ride off the road and take cover under the trees, cut the ignition, and dismount. Lilly follows suit. The bike bumps over fallen twigs and rocks as I push it under the dense scrub. My foot finds the kickstand, flicking it down, and I bash through the branches to come out the other side. The stony rock front of wall stands there grand and strong, like it’s mocking me. You won’t find it. Screw that. I scan, searching, but there’s nothing different about this spot than the rest of the wall.

  “Are you aiming for the place we entered before?” Lilly whispers as she moves up beside me. Damn, we forgot the telcoms.

  Nodding, I approach the fence, willing away the carsick feeling, and run my hand just above it without actually touching it, looking for Jax’s loose stone. The same feeling of being watched tickles the back of my neck as I walk. It’s probably just the barrier, same as the nauseous feeling it puts out. After a few paces I stop, staring at the wall. There’s so many rocks embedded in the frickin’ thing, there’s no way we’ll find it. I drag my hands through my hair, pushing it back out of my eyes.

  Lilly’s hand lands on my shoulder and she gives it a tiny squeeze. “There was a tree, right?”

  “Of course there was a tree. There’s a million of them.” I wave my hand at the long line.

  “On the inside.”

  I glance at the wall, straining to see further. “Oh, yeah. You’re right. It was a willow.”

  “The tree was massive so we might just be able to see the top of it.” Lilly walks backwards, closer to the trees, and peers into the distance along the wall. After only a few seconds she jumps onto her toes and points. “There.”

  She’s right. In the distance, just visible over the fence, is a tree top. It’s definitely on the inside of the fence because I can only see the top fraction, its domed top and drooping branches noticeably different to the trees on this side. I run. As we get closer, the willow disappears behind the fence now that we’re not looking down the hill. I can no longer see it but I stop. This is the right place.